


Just Like Old Times

by TotallyNotInACult



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Implied Relationships, Its my first work ever, M/M, Rhys is an unpredictable little shit, but i posted it so now im commited, i hate this story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-22 23:19:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19138858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotallyNotInACult/pseuds/TotallyNotInACult
Summary: It's five years later, and Rhys is sick of repressing his emotions. He misses Jack. He always had. It's about time he shoves him back into his head, if not for just a few minutes, to talk to his former favorite boss and friend. What could go wrong? Well, as it turns out, Rhys is more unpredictable than the average person's search history, and a lot can go wrong, but maybe the end result isn't so bad?





	1. Mixed Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize ahead of time if there's some inaccurate grammar or facts. If you spot anything please comment and I'll see about it being fixed. Do, however, consider that these are MY headcanons and that this was written before Borderlands 3 so it will NOT be accurate to the events in that game. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy the story that follows.

As Rhys stared in the bathroom mirror, he saw a reflection he did not recognize. His hair was still swept back, but it was much longer, and almost hung over his shoulders. A deep red splatter of blood on his cheek contrasted with his paler-than-average complexion. Even his eyes, he thought, looked different.

He brought up a metal hand to scratch at the hair on his upper lip.  _I'm just tired,_ he thought. And he was. Being CEO of one of the largest companies in the world was a draining job. Often, he'd have to do some groundwork... like today.

"Fucking bandits," he said aloud.

Sure, he was  _trying_ to help them, but they,  _once again,_ broke into his warehouse and tried to steal his merchandise. He didn't want to shoot them, but he couldn't ignore his own "tresspassers will be shot on sight" sign that was hung in the wide open for a reason.

Sighing, he reached to turn the faucet to warm, and grabbed a wash towel from the towel rack. He ran the towel under the smooth warm water a couple times before bringing it to his face and scrubbing at the drying blood. Rhys set the towel down and brought out a razer and shaving cream. Applying the cream, he started the shaving process, leaving the spot on his upper lip alone. The blade slipped a little from his hand and he nicked a spot just under his chin.

 _"Fucking bandits,"_ he said again, much more venom in his voice.

How could they  _not_ understand that he was currently reversing the outcome of Handsome Jack's reign?

 _Handsome Jack._ That name brought a feeling upon Rhys that he wished he could understand. A mixture of anger, sadness, and loneliness. Ever since he brought down Helios, Rhys had felt empty without him in his head. Since then, he'd transferred the information from his eye onto a hard drive, similar to the one it was originally stored on. He also updated his cybernetics security so that, if he  _were_ to put Jack back in his head, he wouldn't be able to regain control of Rhys' body. Rhys shivered at that memory

Of course, he remembered where he kept the AI. No matter what, he could never bring himself to destroy it. Hidden in his bedside drawer, it lay for five years, occassionally being tossed around in Rhys' frantics to find something he lost. That happened often.

Rhys stepped away from the counter and cautiously stalked into his bedroom the next room over. The conjoining rooms served purposeful for nights that he'd drink too much and wake up the next morning with no time to lose before he was strung over the toilet dry heaving with strands of greasy hair falling into his eyes.

As he'd reached his nightstand, he hesitated for a moment. Was he really going to do it? Probably not. He would most likely stare at it for a couple of minutes, reliving his memories, and then put it back once he got to the not-so-pleasant ones. At that, he yanked the drawer open and sifted through his personal items until his flesh hand felt the small cold metal of the hard drive.

He did stare at it for a few moments, but instead of tossing it back, he sat on the edge of his bed and brought it to his chest holding it there, the beginning of tears threatening to sting his eyes.

A shaky whisper emitted from his lips,  _"I miss you..."_

Rhys brought himself to his feet and trudged into his bathroom.  _This is it,_ he thought. _I'm finally gonna do it._

He didn't. Rhys stopped in the doorway and reexamined the drive.

 _Not today,_ he figured.  _I just can't. Not today._

 _Don't be such a COWARD,_ the voice sprang from his thoughts like a stalker would to its prey.

He was going to do it. The hard drive was firmly held at his port by his flesh hand. Before he could do the deed, his eyes glanced up to the mirror.

_No, I can't do it. Not while I look like this._

His hair was ratty, eyebags hung low, he wore a t-shirt and sweatpants that both bore the Atlas logo, and he forgot to clean up the spot on his chin that was nicked by the razer's blade.

He applied some ointment to the cut. His usual attire was in dry-cleaning to rid of the blood from his previous bandit shoot-out. He could easily fix his hair with some pomaide, but there was nothing he could do about his bags except sleep.

So that's what he figured he'd do.

* * *

 

The next morning, Rhys awoke with a childish excitement in him. He was going to do it. Handsome Jack would, once again, be inside of him. Rhys looked down at that thought and decided to reword it to, "Jack would be inside of his  _head._ "

First, he had to request his clean clothes be brought to him (after all, he wasn't going to roam around the facility in his casualwear). Then, he would do his regular bathroom routine, and finally, he would be able to talk to Jack for the first time in  _years._ Rhys wondered if Jack could feel those years ticking away, and was encouraged to jump out of bed and pick up his ECHO.

Where had he placed it again?

"Shit," Rhys muttered as he threw open drawers and rummaged through their contents, fully disregarding the hard drive he tossed on the floor.

Rhys smacked himself on the face with his flesh hand at his sudden realization. He didn't have one. He could do it all from the palm of his other, robotic hand.

 _"Right,"_ Rhys groaned.

Frantically, he pulled up his assistants ID on his palm, and a projection of her soft face appeared before the second ring.

"How may I help you today, sir?" she asked as calmly as possible, despite her seeing Rhys' unusually disheveled face.

"Clothes?" was all Rhys could muster to say as he wiped his eyes and yawned.

"Of course, sir," his assistant chuckled as she hung up the call.

Rhys closed out the callscreen and waited, tapping his fingers against his thighs. In no time, his assistant was rasping at his door loud enough the whole wing could probably hear.

"Mr. Strongfork, sir, It's me!" she called.

"Coming," Rhys trotted towards the door and opened it slow enough to hide his excitement.

He opened it to a smiling face, genuinely happy to be doing her job.  _That's good. Can't have employees slacking because they aren't happy._

"Thanks, Christine," he grabbed the neatly folded clothes and waved her off. "Have a nice day."

"You too!"

"I will."

They both chuckled and parted, Rhys closing the door behind him. Now he was in his living space that was occupied by a large leather couch, flat screen TV complete with a full fledged entertainment system, and various shelves filled with books that would never be read.

He headed back into his bedroom where he changed into his usual striped pants, white dress shirt (cut at the right sleeve to make room for his cybernetic arm), a red tie (no longer tucked into his pants), black dress shoes, and former Hyperion vest that he erased the original logo from and replaced with "Atlas."

Once he was done, he raced into the bathroom to apply pomaide to his already greasy hair, and brushed his teeth. He noticed that there were still bags under his eyes, but not near as bad as the night before. By then, he was ready.

But first, he had to actually retrieve the hard drive from his now messy bedroom.

_Shit, I can't have Jack in here with it like this._

Rhys was terrible at first impressions, but when it came to  _second_ first impressions, he already knew what to expect from that person.

And he knew Jack would make fun of him for a messy room.

Naturally, he shoved all of the contents back into his drawers, not caring what went where. Rhys picked up the hard drive and returned to the bathroom where he found himself staring into the mirror once again. Holding up the hard drive to his neural port, he could imagine Handsome Jack - boss, friend, enemy - standing there next to him.

That's when he did it

That's when he brought Handsome Jack into his life for the second time.

The drive stuck out of his head and Rhys had second thoughts.

 _This is a mistake,_ Rhys realized as he forced the hard drive from his head and threw it into the sink.  _It's not too late, is it?_

Rhys brought up both of his hands and tugged at his hair, ruining its perfection.

_I just fucked everything up, didn't I?_

He brought his metal hand down from his head and clenched at his racing heart. His breathing quickened as he dropped to his knees. In the midst of his panic attack, he went from his knees to his side, and as he lay there, his knees are brought up to his chest and a choked sob came from deep within his throat.

A few minutes passed, and nothing happened.

Rhys lifted his head and scanned the room. Everything's normal.  _No Jack._ That's good. He was quick enough. He  _didn't_ fuck everything up.

He used the sink counter as leverage as he brought himself back onto his wobbly feet. His hands lay on the counter as he closed his eyes and let out a relieved sigh. He wiped the tears away with the palm of his flesh hand and readjusted his clothes. Even without Jack, he still had to go to work.

Rhys reapplied his pomaide as the rest of his tears dried up. He reached for the comb and brought it through his tangled hair. He gasped and dropped the comb once he saw the blue reflection in the mirror

"Hey there, pumpkin."

 


	2. Forgive Me?

"Hey there, pumpkin."

Rhys practically  _threw_ himself across the bathroom and tripped on the trashcan, falling on his ass in front of the door.

Okay, yeah, Rhys isn't good at second first impressions either.

"I-I... H- _holy-_ " his hands reached for something to hold onto while his body trembled.

Jack approached him, laughing, and crouched down to meet Rhys' shocked face. "Woah, hey,  _that's_ new!" 

Rhys raised an eyebrow in question and Jack pointed to his own face right above his lip. A metal hand raised up to cover the facial hair he had grown.

"D'awwe, don't cover it, cupcake. I like it!" He reached to pull Rhys' arm away, but his hand just went through his and he sighed. "Still in your head, huh? Bummer. Figured you'd figure out a way to, ya know," he made a motion from his head to the floor next to him, making the shape of something actually being there, all the while making various noises to emphasise his point.

Rhys didn't move.

"What's the matter, babe? Cat got your tongue?"

Rhys closed his eyes so he couldn't see Jack and choked back a sob.  _Oh God, I did fuck everything up._

_"Jeez,_ you cry  _a lot_ more than I remember." Jack stood up and scanned the room. "So, of all the places you summon a dead man, it's your  _bathroom?_ Christ, kid."

Rhys collected his barings, and he, too, stood up to match Jack's height. Two pairs of eyes looked into one another with consideration before Jack broke the tension.

"I know I'm a lot to look at, but  _damn,_ say something, kiddo," he grit his teeth.

"I'm not afraid of you," Rhys' throat strained to form the words, and the words that came out were hoarse.

Jack smirked into his next words, "What's that, babe?"

Rhys' lip curled into a snarl and he got closer to Jack, his voice cracking, "I. Am not. Afraid. Of  _you._ "

"Yeah, sure kid. That really says something since you did just cower for like, what, five minutes?  _Pathetic_ attempt at intimidation there, Rhysie."

Rhys flinched when Jack said his name. It's been too long.

"So, uh, what now? Gonna tell me  _why_ you did this?"

"Did what?" he choked

Jack raised his eyebrows and gestured at himself, " _This_ _?_ "

Rhys kept his mouth shut. He didn't know the full answer himself.

"Ya know," Jack started, "It's  _rude_ to not answer a question when you're asked." By now, he was tapping his holographic foot against the ceramic tiles.

Rhys turned away, "I don't know."

"What do you mean you ' _don't know?_ '" Jack was baffled.

"I guess," Rhys sighed. "I was lonely?" He met Jack's gaze again.

"Lonely, huh? Why didn't just get a dog? Or are ya a cat guy? You kinda striked me a dog person, though."

Rhys was no longer struggling to speak, "Dogs don't talk, Jack. And besides, I don't have to take care of  _you._ "

Silence again. Rhys bit his lower lip. Jack stared at the floor. A few moments passed before Rhys realized that Jack wasn't just staring at the floor, but looking at his vest.

Even though Rhys knew it was there, he still looked down to confirm that that was what Jack was eyeing.

"So... Atlas, huh?"

"I, uh... Yeah, Atlas."

"So, does that mean that you took my deed from the crash? Ya know, it's not right to steal from people, pumpkin, especially your boss-"

"You're  _not_ my boss. Not anymore, at least. You're just," Rhys struggled for words, "a  _thing_ that I...  _shoved_ into my  _head_."

Jack growled, "Listen here, cupcake. You call me a  _thing one more time_ , and I  _promise_ you won'tsee these boring gray walls.  _Ever. Again._ "

Rhys spat in his face, but his saliva went right through and hit the floor behind Jack. Jack obviously wasn't pleased, because he reached to grab at Rhys' throat at a sad attempt to strangle him. He gave up at trying once his hands phased through for the fifth time. Despite Jack not being able to touch him, Rhys flinched.

"You're not like you used to be, Rhysie. You used to be a  _lot_ more respectful. If this is how you treat the hottest guy in the universe, I'd  _hate_ to see how you treat your employees."

"I've seen hotter."

"I doubt it."

"No, really, I-"

" _So did you take the deed or_ not?"Jack barked.

"I, uh, yeah," Rhys admitted, "I mean, I  _did_ make a pretty damn good company out of it, though."

"Can I see it?"

_I don't know,_ can  _you?_ he wished he could say, but held back.

"Uh, sure? But, I can't exactly  _talk_ to you in public."

"Nahh," Jack wrinkled his nose, "I don't exactly care about _you_ right now. I just wanna see the place. I'll save my questions for the end."

"Alright, just, don't make me look  _crazy_ out there."

"You already  _are_ crazy, hun."

"I most certainly am  _not,_ " Rhys argued.

Jack started making his way to the door, signaling for Rhys to open it, "I beg to differ."

"Then beg."

Jack chuckled, "Only in your dreams, kid." He sealed the statement with a wink.

Rhys so badly wanted to say, "But you already did. For your life." but decided against it for the sake of keeping Jack around a little longer.

Instead, he just sighed and turned the knob to a door of endless possibilities.

_W_ _hat possibilities?_ he asked himself. They sure were endless. Some of them, he didn't even want to think about, including the one where Jack somehow manages to break through his security systems and take over his body... Again.

_It's impossible_ , Rhys assured himself.  _I made sure of that._

Jack whistled, "Nice bedroom, babe. Imagine all the fun we can have here, huh?" He attempted to nudge Rhys, who was now blushing, with his elbow.

_Now that's one possibility,_ Rhys thought,  _that I did_ not  _think of, and never want to ever again._

"Shut up, Jack."

"No," he smirked, "I'm just thinking about how I'm gonna toss you on that bed and-"

"Lalalalalalalalalalaaaaa -  _I can't hear you!"_

Rhys' hands were now covering his ears and his eyes were shut tight. He began making his way to the next door to encourage Jack to keep moving, but Jack was interested in other things.

"What's this, kiddo?" he pointed to a small black case that lay next to Rhys' bed.

"Hmm?" Rhys walked over to Jack to inspect what had him intrigued. "Oh,  _that._ Well uh..."

"Go on."

Rhys fiddled with his fingers, "Well it's kind of a souvenir that I kept after the fall of Helios."

"So I wasn't enough? Man, I  _never_ was enough for you, babe, was I? I'd hate to say this, but I think we need some time apart," Jack teased.

Rhys got all defensive, "But... We're not... Dating?"

"Of course we're not, dum dum. Learn to take a fuckin' joke. You're so  _dense._ Like, I bet you can't even go swimming because you always sink to the bottom. Like,  _that_ dense."

"So do you wanna see it, or no? Because I have  _way_ better things to do than listen to the voice in my head."

Jack tilted his head both way as if weighing his answers, "Maybe."

Rhys relaxed as he moved to slide the case onto his bed. His muscles tensed at the weight he was carrying.

"That heavy, huh?" Jack moved closer, clearly interested in what mysteries that box had to offer.

"It's really not that interesting," Rhys said as he flicked the clasps down with ease. The contents of the container proved Jack otherwise.

"You... You took my Conference Call," Jack sounded more upset than angry.

_That's good._

"Uh, yeah. Believe it or not, it was still completely intact after the crash. I considered painting it Atlas colors, but figured it was beautiful just the way it was."

Rhys picked it up from the case and held it out for Jack to admire. Jack ran his holographic fingers across the metal as if he could feel it. Some gears, Rhys noticed, were turning inside that man's head.

"I've missed you," he said, finally, still touching different parts of the gun.

Rhys said nothing.

Jack let out a half-hearted laugh, "It's ok, pumpkin. I don't expect you to know what it's like seeing and feeling  _nothing_ for five years or more."

Rhys whipped his eyes up to meet Jack's, "You... Lived through all that?"

Jack's hands stopped right over Rhys', "Yeah."

"I'm sorry..."

"Yeah."

"Forgive me?"

Another half-hearted laugh, "Yeah."

Jack removed his hands from the shotgun, put one hand on his hip, and the other he held palm up towards the door. "Shall we?"

Rhys put the shotgun back in it's case, closed the clasps, and slid it under his bed, "Sure. I'm just gonna go on my regular inspection patrol to avoid any raised eyebrows."

As he walked past Jack, he made eye contact with him as if to say "I'm sorry" one more time before heading out. Jack, in return, gave a small smile to assure Rhys that "it's ok."

Rhys' gut churned and he sighed before opening up the door to the world he created before them... Which was living room. His mind was  _not_ good at narrating dramatic moments today. Actually, it was  _never_ good at it in the first place.

They passed through the living room with no words spoken. Rhys quickly glanced at Jack next to him as he opened up the next door.

"I'm sorry..."

 

 


End file.
